Mo Chuisle
by I Fancy Hugh Dancy
Summary: Catriona learns the price of being the daughter of Boston's mayor. Vacillating between truth and lies, will she find what she is looking for? And will vigilantes of South Boston suddenly become her guardian Saints? Rating increases in later chapters.
1. Taken

**+ MO CHUISLE +**

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_**"The Planets Bend Between Us"**_

_**By: Snow Patrol**_

_The winter's marked the Earth  
It's floored with frozen glass  
You slip into my arms  
And you quickly correct yourself _

_Your freezing speech bubbles  
Seem to hold your words aloft  
I want the smoky clouds of laughter  
To swim about me forever more _

_I will race you to the waterside  
And from the edge of Ireland shout out loud  
So they could hear it in America  
It's all for you. _

_The shells crack under our shoes  
Like punctuation points  
The planets bend between us  
A hundred million suns and stars _

_The sea filled in the silence  
Before you said those words  
And now even in the darkness  
I can see how happy you are _

_I will race you to the waterside  
And from the edge of Ireland shout out loud  
So they could hear it in a America  
It's all for you _

_It's all for you_

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**Written by:** Lourdes, a.k.a. **I Fancy Hugh Dancy**

**Rating: **T – MA for violence, language and adult situations.

**Genre:** Romance/Drama/Angst/Crime

**Summary: **Catriona learns the price of being the daughter of the Mayor of Boston. Vacillating between truth and lies, will she find what she is looking for? And will notorious criminals of South Boston suddenly become her guardian Saints in the process? Rating will go up in later chapters.

**Disclaimer:** This story is pure fan fiction. People, places and names have been altered to fit the plot. I do not own the Saints or any recognizable characters from the film. I own Catriona and the various stock characters that appear in the story.

**Author's Note: **Surprised to see me back? Yes, it's been a while, and I can explain. My computer crashed, and I lost _all _of my files and stories. I had hundreds of pages lined up for my Boondock fics, but alas, their fate now lies in the hands of computer technicians. Hopefully they'll be able to back-up my files and I'll have the rest of my work ready to go and posted as soon as I can. In the interim, I've procured a new computer. I was suddenly inspired after watching some action movies with my Da and subsequently listening to the above Snow Patrol song. Plus, I missed writing and missed this fandom! Hopefully this new addition to my ever-growing BDS fics collection will live up to your expectations…and then some. Enjoy!

Other BDS fics I've written:

- **"In His Eyes"**: Murphy/OC.

- "**Diapers, Pacifiers and Milk, Oh My!**": Oneshot featuring Murphy and mini-Murphy.

- "**Even In Heaven**": Murphy/OC.

- "**Even In Heaven II: Saints' Scourge**": Murphy/OC.

- "**Path To Sainthood**": Connor/OC.

- "**Path To Sainthood II: Into Your Arms**": Connor/OC.

- "**Into the Dark**": Murphy/OC.

- "**Till Death Do Us Part**": Oneshot. Literally.

I would love to hear from anyone and everyone. Any comments, questions, corrections, constructive criticism, suggestions, and encouragement are welcome and much appreciated!

Special thanks go out to all of you who have supported me and continue to support me. Go raibh maith agat! xx IFHD

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**Chapter 1: Taken**

"_As your new Mayor, I promise to do everything in my power to apprehend the vigilantes referred to as 'The Saints'. The safety of those who reside in this great city of ours is my number one priority, and I will do whatever I can to bring peace and security back to Boston…"_

Catriona Barcelon felt a proud smile tugging upon the side of her lips as she turned off the television with a curt press of the remote. "There you go again, daddy…off trying to save all of Boston again." She gave her head a bemused shake before enunciating an involuntary yawn. Feeling the pull of her heavy eyelids, she finally realized that it was well past midnight. Closing her laptop monitor, she resolved to call it a night, choosing to give her sleep-deprived body a rest instead of finishing the rest of her assignments and reports for the following day.

Working for her father certainly had its perks.

Donning a red, satin dress after she had freshened up, Catriona made her way from the bathroom through the single, narrow corridor that led to her bedroom. Turning off the hallway light as she reached for the doorknob, she suddenly heard an almost inaudible creak coming from behind her. She stopped fully in her tracks, feet rooted to the ground. Listening intently for another moment, she heard nothing but the wind pounding upon the window before her.

As she began to walk further, however, she immediately tensed as she heard another creak. It was much more distinct than the first time.

Catriona would never consider herself as having a sixth sense, but whatever instinct that she possessed, it suddenly flared within her in red warning. Whirling around in an about-face, her cerulean eyes immediately landed upon the shadowed figure of a tall, imposing man in front of her. Before she could let out a sound, however, he rapidly took possession of her body with an adamantine grip and pressed a flat palm upon her entire mouth. Even though she bucked and kicked in order to try and free herself, her captor held her steady, easily overpowering her as his arms coiled even more tightly around her lean body.

"Shhh, hey, hey, I ain't gonna `urt ye," the stranger hissed into her right ear, his breath warm against her flushed cheek, "Ye gotta listen ta me, Catriona…"

Catriona mumbled something incomprehensible into her captor's palm as she knitted her brows in bewilderment. _How the hell does he know my name?_ She inwardly hissed, attempting to push his arms away from her body once more. _Shit! He knows who I am. He's going to kill me…_

"If ye wanna live, love, yer gonna keep as quiet as possible an' follow me, alright?"

The Irish lilt that comprised his voice, coupled with its soothing tone, was almost enough to arouse belief within her. Though, in her present physical situation, everything that this Irishman was saying was naught but a cover for his true intentions. Catriona had been warned about assassination attempts on her father before. It was even ingrained in her mind that there may be possible attempts on _her _life as well. And, now that such a situation was transpiring, the training that she had undergone seemed nothing but a distant memory.

Even amidst her panic, a semblance of rationality flickered in her mind; probably the manifestation of a sad excuse for a defense mechanism. _Stop panicking and think!_ She felt the maniacal pounding of her heart and the oncoming dizziness as blood rushed to her head._ He's not pointing a gun to your head, so fucking fight him off! If you want to see your father again, or anyone else that you care about, then fight. Him. Off!_

She couldn't pinpoint the origin of her strength and gall, but, in what seemed like a flash, she had somehow managed to elbow her attacker in the solar plexus, causing him to double over with a groan. With considerable effort, she was finally able to writhe free of his hold. Scrambling towards the far end of the corridor, she felt her knees buckle below her as she attempted to wildly flee for her life. She didn't get far with her struggle to escape, for as she turned the corner and burst into the living room, another man stepped out in front of her and blocked her route.

He quickly held out his open hands in front of him as though in surrender. "Catriona, calm down. We're tryin' ta _'elp_ ye, no' 'urt ye. Now, if ye would just _listen_ ta us fer a second…"

"Connor, they're 'ere."

Breathing heavily, Catriona twisted her head to the sound of the disturbingly _soothing_ voice. She perceived her first captor carefully peeking through her window blinds, trying to remain inconspicuous as he firmly pressed his back upon the side wall. Turning his attention to whom he referred to as 'Connor', he gave his head a curt tilt towards the front door before stalking towards them.

Catriona cowered back and landed right into Connor's grip. Whirling her around to face him, his steel-blue eyes landed upon her in consternation. Giving her a shake for good measure, he whispered in haste, "There's no time. There are assassins tha' are goin' ta barge right through yer front door at any moment now. I understand tha' we 'ave a lot o' explainin' ta do, but tha' ain't gonna be much 'elp if ye're dead." Catriona felt a shiver run down her spine at this statement, but eventually allowed him to proceed without protest, "Go wid me brother Murphy 'ere. 'e'll take ye somewhere safe."

"We know tha' we can't 'ave yer trust right now," Murphy chimed in, holding out his hand in invitation before her, "but it's either ye choose ta come wid us an' live, or ye choose ta stay 'ere an' die. It's tha' simple, love." He thrust his hand in front of her once more, more firmly this time. "So what's it gonna be?"

With a menacing growl, Catriona rudely slapped his extended hand away. "Get the fuck away from me! Both of you!" Her eyes frantically darted through her abode, attempting to find another escape route from the two Irishmen before her. Just as she spotted and zoned in on the back window, they heard the front door break and collapse with a violent bang. Feeling her heart leap to her throat at the foretold intrusion, Catriona jumped back in shock and nearly lost her footing. Though, before she hit the ground, she felt strong arms wrap around her waist and pull her back upright.

Her eyes locked upon fiery, sapphire orbs.

"Yer comin' wid me, whether ye want ta live or not," Murphy snarled as his right hand snatched her wrist, "'cause I sure as 'ell don't…"

Murphy's sentence was rudely interrupted by a fusillade of bullets ripping through the wall beside him. Pulling Connor down to the ground with his free hand, he cursed at the fact that they had been spotted so quickly. As the two Irishmen swiftly retreated towards the back door, they returned fire with identical silencers, satisfaction rising within them as groans of pain and thuds of bodies echoed throughout the house. Catriona winced at the deafening and destabilizing exchange, having little choice but to escape her home with the two, unknown men.

Chill air struck their faces as they burst into the backyard. Stealthily moving beside the west wall of the house, Connor took the lead, gun poised and ready in front of him. Murphy followed a few paces behind, keeping his firm grip upon Catriona's wrist as he pulled her closely behind him. Spotting their vehicle a few houses down to their left, Connor simply hissed to his brother, "We do as planned," and then bolted into the night without another word.

It seemed as though every emotion was coursing through Catriona's body all at once. She shook momentarily as the events unraveling before her finally weighed upon her mind. Vehemently clutching the front of Murphy's grey shirt without warning, she pulled him towards her and snapped viciously, "I want to know what the _fuck_ is going on! If this is all a charade, a fucking pretense before killing me, then I…"

"If we wanted ta kill someone, sweet'eart, we wouldn't hesitate fer a second."

Catriona involuntarily shuddered at the assuredness in the Irishman's voice. The two locked eyes once more; Catriona seemed to be searching for more answers while Murphy was merely waiting for her reaction.

After a few heartbeats, they suddenly became aware of the closeness in which they were standing. Almost in unison, they took a step back away from one another, still shrouded in perfect silence. Neither seemed to make a move for what seemed like an eternity.

It was Murphy who broke the trance first as he held out his gun and cocked it in front of him. "Stay hidden until I make sure tha coast is clear." He peered at her through the corner of his eyes, his voice softening. "Then, we'll go."

With a gulp, Catriona found her voice to weakly question, "Go where?"

"Ta me home."

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**A****/N: Well, how`s that for my comeback****? That was certainly fun to write! Are you guys liking this story so far, and should I continue? Let me know what you think! xx IFHD**


	2. Explanations

**A/N:** Hey everyone! I'm back after an extended hiatus. Now that I have more time, I decided to continue this story. Thank you to Dead-Poetic-Slumber, betty-boo, BelhavenOnTap and dragonzfire718 for reviewing and thank you for reading!

"Mo Chuisle" means "my darling" or "my pulse" in Irish Gaelic. Also, I will try to update my other fics. Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy this next installment! Cheers! xx IFHD

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**Chapter 2: Explanations**

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_**"Saferwaters"**_

_**By: Chevelle**_

_This city's saving grace  
But whoever knows, nobody knows  
Why he'd roll the eyes back  
Why he'd roll those eyes, those heartless eyes_

_Well I won't pretend to lie  
Once more protect my blinded sight  
You'd say  
For I came from a fish you mock the place where I exist and live._

_That world is calling  
So I'm crawling back to sea  
Against the surge of waves that  
Held us in that ancient grip beneath  
Retreat to safer waters_

_Still learning what chaos kills  
But whoever cares, nobody cares like you  
Why we'd abandon time, just shut the door  
Why we'd go to the wall, claim less is more_

_This city's saving grace  
But whoever knows, nobody knows_

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Murphy was careful not to attract any attention to their vehicle as they cruised through the almost deserted streets at normal speed. Instinctively feeling Catriona's eyes boring upon him, his sapphire orbs flickered momentarily to her form, which was dimly-lit by the passing streetlights. She seemed to be in considerable torment, her expression a mélange of confusion, anger and, of what he could minutely discern, fear. He actually admired her for possessing the metaphorical balls to jump into a vehicle with a complete stranger. Then again, he mused, if he were running away from people bent on drilling several bullets into his body, he would also have jumped into the first automobile in sight and raced out of the scene as soon as he could – stranger present with him or not.

"Can you really not hear me or are you just blatantly ignoring me?"

Catriona's sharp tone was enough to finally bring Murphy back from his reverie. Blinking twice as he rethought the query, he questioned in return, "Wha'?"

Fighting to keep her somewhat collected composure, Catriona restrained a snarl as she repeated through clenched teeth, "I asked who sent you."

Murphy, if it were possible, looked even _more _puzzled. Brows knitting as he alternated his attention to and from the road and the seething woman beside him, he answered in a semi-jest, "I sent meself. That is, if _I_ count?"

Damn any semblance of composure! When the Irishman followed up his reply with a vexatious little smirk, Catriona wasn't able to hide the sound of irritation that rumbled through her throat. She then voiced her thoughts, though it did not seem that she was directing her speech to Murphy. "If you're not going to kill me, then I can only assume that one of my father's CIA or FBI associates sent you to protect me from whoever was trying to turn me into a cheese grater." Her lower lip quivered at the flashback of her near-death experience. Feeling her entire body trembling, she then turned her entire form away from the Irishman, signalling her disinterest in further conversation.

Murphy's sudden irritation stemmed more from the tension between them rather than the silence. "It doesn't matter who I am or who sent me. Wha' matters is tha' yer not a feckin' cheese grater an' tha' ye'll live ta see another day." The Irishman didn't even seem to mind his sudden insensitivity as he continued with, "An' before ye decide ta give me tha silent treatment, at least _thank_ me fer riskin' me own arse ta save yers. I'd greatly appreciate tha'."

Catriona didn't take the bait. Finding her voice once more, she didn't bother to turn to face Murphy as she spat, "Now what? Are you going to take me to your hideout and hold me for ransom? Or do you have something else up your pea coat sleeve?"

Murphy allowed frustration to overcome him as he snapped without restraint, "'ow many times do I 'ave ta tell ye tha' I ain't gonna 'urt ye? Jesus fuckin' Christ, ye think tha' I'm _lyin' _'bout tha' or somethin'? 'Cause keepin' up an act is too much effort, an' God knows tha' I've already got enough shit on me 'ands ta…"

"Then take me _off_ yer bloody, shit-filled hands and bring me to my father!" Catriona viciously snapped, effectively halting Murphy's rambling speech. Receiving no response from the Irishman after a few moments, her cerulean eyes deepened in colour as a flash of anger passed within them. "Well, what are you waiting for? Take me to my father!"

Clenching his jaw in order to mask any and all frustration, Murphy simply replied with, "I can't do that, love."

A sound of disbelief escaped Catriona's lips. "If you care so much about my well-being, then…"

"I don't."

The cat caught Catriona's biting tongue as Murphy's assertion reverberated through her. Slowly closing her agape mouth, she twisted her head away from his form and attempted to focus on the brightly-lit coast of Boston Harbour instead. Surprise, rather than a punctured ego, served to silence her: why had she felt a sudden constriction of her heart when he had proclaimed that he didn't care for her?

So much for fairy tale heroes.

Murphy then heaved a sigh, feeling as though he desperately needed to placate this woman. Trying to rebuild the bridge that he had severely nuked with two, mere syllables, he explained, "I'm only following some plans, alright? There's a lot more goin' on 'ere than ye know at tha moment, so if ye can just keep yerself from jumpin' outta this car, things will become clearer once we explain everythin'."

Catriona found that there was no need of her to jump out of a moving vehicle, for just as Murphy finished his sentence, the car jerked to a complete stop. Thoroughly surveying her new surroundings, she was alarmed to realize that she had never been to this part of South Boston before. These modest-sized homes seemed to be in a secluded area, flanked by dozens of pine trees and surrounded by wired fences.

She jerked back in surprise as the passenger door flew open. She had been so immersed in the scrutiny of her whereabouts that she had not even noticed that Murphy had exited the car. He stood before her, slightly bending as he peered into the vehicle. "It's only fittin' tha' I invite ye ta me 'ome after I broke inta yers." The lightness in his tone, he hoped, would serve to end the hostile mood between them. "Let's get inside before someone sees us."

It was only when Catriona fully stepped out of the car that Murphy became entirely conscious of what she was wearing – or, rather, _not_ wearing. Hoping to be discreet, he intently eyed her from head to toe, taking in every inch of her tall, athletic frame and the red, satin nightgown that adorned it. The low-cut dress seemed to perfectly hug her curvaceous hips, stopping mid-thigh, and leaving just enough to the imagination. As Murphy's close inspection of his new 'guest' halted at her eyes, it was clear that she knew _exactly _what he was doing. To his bewilderment, she didn't seem too upset by it.

As they swiftly entered the house, it was Catriona's turn to scrutinize the man before her. Despite his gruff demeanour and adamantine exterior, she could sense compassion emanating from his being. Though, what puzzled her was the fatigue and dullness that his eyes exhibited. In truth, albeit being tall, dark-haired, and quite handsome, there seemed to be an aura of melancholy around him that she couldn't help but notice. Why he suddenly piqued her interest, she had no idea. But what she did know was that she lost her concentration when he disrobed in front of her.

Now standing in front of her in a simple white tank top and jeans, Murphy mussed his cropped hair before turning his attention back to her. Giving her body another once-over, he questioned almost inaudibly, "Ye want somethin' else ta wear o'er tha..." he briefly paused, pursing his lips into a thin line, "...lingerie?"

Crossing her arms over her chest in an attempt to simultaneously cover herself as well as elicit some heat, Catriona threw him a curt nod of acceptance. "That'd be nice, thank you."

While rummaging through his closet in order to retrieve something warm, a small smirk tugged at Murphy's lips at his subtle victory. "Tha's tha first time ye've thanked me." He let out a friendly scoff, twisting his head in order to face her, "Tha' wasn't so hard, now was it?"

"Giving someone credit that they're due isn't difficult for me," Catriona retorted testily with a tilt of her head. "But when I don't even know who I'm giving that credit to, I'd rather retract that thanks."

"Ye already know me name," the Irishman pointed out as he sauntered back towards her form with a long sweater in hand.

"And what's in a name?" Catriona countered, raising her head in order to meet his gaze, "For all I know, that may not even be your true identity."

Murphy consciously ignored her statement. His attention was quickly drawn to a black and blue mark upon Catriona's collarbone. He tossed the sweater aside. Wincing, he didn't think twice about placing his calloused fingers upon the bruise, wondering if he had been responsible for it. He noticed Catriona recoil at the contact of his fingers upon her skin and slowly withdrew his hand. With a slight wince, he questioned in a whisper, "Does it hurt?"

"No." She quickly replied. "Your hands are just cold." _And you make me nervous as hell_, Catriona finished inwardly as she was unable to keep his penetrating gaze any longer.

It wasn't long before Catriona felt a cold compress upon the skin of the bruise. Hissing at the sudden change in temperature, she looked down to realize that Murphy had obtained a first aid kit and was busily administering her remedy. Surveying him curiously, he seemed to be an expert on bandaging wounds and general healing practices; it made her wonder if he was some kind of paramedic, or even doctor. Feeling the tips of his fingers grazing upon her exposed skin as he changed the position of the compress, Catriona was surprised to find that she didn't seem to mind their proximity. Feeling the pangs of nervousness ebb away at their prolonged contact, she mustered enough courage to coil her delicate fingers upon his wrist as she declared, "You know, sooner or later you're going to have to tell me who you really are."

Raising his brows, Murphy declined his head, his face mere inches from hers. "I'm just a person who needs ta keep tha Mayor's daughter from bein' killed." His lips then curled into a frown, softened eyes scrutinizing the contours of Catriona's face. "Other than tha', nothin' else is o' any importance."

The sudden click of an opening door severed the silence between them. Simultaneously looking up, they perceived Connor staggering into the living room with numerous bags slung all around his dirtied body. Heaving his belongings onto the couch, the blonde Irishman peered upwards at them, momentarily finding their closeness of interest. Then, quick to shake his curiosity from his consciousness, he stated bluntly, "We killed tha whole lot o' 'em." Connor saw Catriona gulp at this information, though didn't hesitate to continue, "I checked tha perimeters for backup. No signs o' any." He busied himself with removing his pea coat and rummaging through his backpacks. "Don't think any o' us were being followed, but I covered our tracks just tha same." Looking up at his accomplice, then to Catriona alternately, he proclaimed with certainty, "Tha whole city's gonna be lookin' fer 'er. After they see tha mess tha's left in 'er 'ouse, they'll conclude tha' she's been kidnapped..."

Catriona took a few steps towards Connor, face contorted with perturbation. "Who were those men that were sent to kill me?" When neither of the Irishmen bothered to answer her query, she rephrased the question with much more force this time, "Who were the men that you both killed?"

It was Murphy who answered from behind her:

"Those men were gonna frame us fer yer murder."

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**A/N: Ooh, even *I* like where this is going! Haha! Hope you all enjoyed this one! Till next time. xx IFHD**


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